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One Response to “Les Murray, ‘The Fall of Aphrodite Street’ (1990)”

an unsettling, almost vulgar (but still fascinating) AIDS poem. i’m not used to seeing the desire of the flesh described so carnally (stacked and juicy apples, ‘knobs on a skin machine’) or the deaths of its victims presented so matter-of-factly (‘the plateglass turned to air,’ now ‘half of it isn’t there’)

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that's all it is, gerald, my young hero. at any rate we'll spare ourselves the nausea of stirring the old broth any more. you be beautiful, my gerald, and reckless. there are perfect moments. wake up, gerald, convince me of the perfect moments, oh, convince me, i need it.

so you are a boy, she said, who will kill a man rather than be late to meet your sweetheart? we hold together, the females of this earth. i shall mark your forehead now, so that the girls will know of that, when they look at you, and they will like you for it.